Nano 2017 - Haemorrhage

The automatic doors of the convenience store slid shut behind Peter as he hurried to catch up with his new acquaintance. “My name’s Sam by the way” she said as he caught up “Nice to meet you, sort of” Peter replied, falling into step with her. “So how comes you guys have coffee?” Peter had briefly considered whether he should have been more focussed on the alien mind control, but for the time being all he could focus was that delightful hot beverage. “We stocked up before they decided mankind shouldn’t have such delights” she was looking around, presumably for sign of the alien, but the street was empty. “What they got against coffee? Seems an odd thing to mind control another planet over” “No one’s sure. Silas, the scientist that spoke to you back at the lab, he thinks it is part of an experiment” “But you?” “I think they like torturing us” “I’d have thought that mind controlling aliens could come up with more effective forms of torture?” “They’re playing the long ga

Gary the prototype human used a roll of flesh to knock the mute button of his TV control. Perhaps it was the distraction of his soaps that was stopping his new guests (actual humans) from responding to him? But none of them spoke. Gary frowned. Well, part of his flesh that was approximately where a forehead might have been if he had a skull, frowned. “But nice mind controlling aliens” Gary attempted to break the awkward silence, deciding to test a new theory that he might have spooked his guests with an overly frank explanation of the situation. “N….Nice?” Jack said “Yes!” Gary was happy, this was almost like an actual conversation, just like on the telly “For humanity's own good” “For our own good the aliens control our brains?” the Princess then looked at her less fleshy companions “that sounds crazy to the rest of you, right, or am I not thinking straight from all the mind control?” “They don’t control your brains” Gary attempted to clarify “Just the six point four mil

The door clanked shut behind Peter, a slight hissing noise as the seal reconnected. Peter also emitted a slight hissing noise as he tried to make sense of the room in front of him. The first sensation was a cold jolt and the realisation that he had stepped out through the door in a flimsy set of pyjamas and a pair of slippers. Moving the focus from his inadequate attire he looked up and around what seemed to be some kind of primitive laboratory. It was a large, stark, white room. Tables circled the perimeter, each with various equipment or tools resting upon. But there was something else that circled the perimeter of the room. People. Eyes stared at him, the odd gasp uttered. One or two people actually took a step back in surprise at his entrance into their domain. Peter tilted his head in puzzlement. The frowns of alarm in front of him deepened. As if they are unsure of what to do next. To a person they were wearing white coats, some with face masks, others silicon gloves, inter

Granny and Jacoby had argued about the share of any loot most of the way from New Franklin to Bedford. Jack and Graham had kept to themselves at the rear of the small gondola, the knight sharing the odd tale of wingcore daring do, but Jack at the controls not really listening as he spent his time mainly trying to balance the swinging airship as Granny angrily paced from side to side. The Jacobys' had plotted a course back to the desolate playground where they had first met the Princess, it seemed like the best chance of meeting her again given their lack of any other means of communicating. “We’re here” said Jack as he levelled off the airship over the park, grateful of an excuse to break up the bickering. “Already?” time flew for Granny when she was arguing about something and nothing “Ok then. Eyes out for a white Transit van” “I’d have thought it better to look for a white steed, or maybe a carriage and footmen” Graham’s Princess fantasy was starting to get out of hand.

Green Park on a fine summer’s evening was simply glorious, thought Peter. Of course the small can of gin and tonic he’d been covertly slurping played a role in his good mood, but it was more than that alone. He was stretched out on a tatty tartan blanket that one of the girls from accounts had brought along, half listening the to buzz of office gossip flowing around him, but also people watching. Partly he was watching out for the over zealous park wardens with their dim view of public drinking or ball games, but mainly he was just enjoying being nosey. He  mused to himself what the couple across the path were animatedly discussing, a lovers quarrel? Or maybe the latest results from the TV baking show everyone was obsessed with? Then there was the group of workmen by a couple of tall oak trees a little further off, unashamedly drinking cans of lager after a day’s labour, almost daring a park keeper to tell them otherwise; Peter had assumed they’d be arguing about football, but then ch